Pursued by the Past

[Brian T. Riley 0]

The 'Tarnished Star' was again empty by request of it's creator. Brian sat on a wooden bar stool, his hands encircling a half empty bottle of Connemara Irish whiskey. New Atlantis, and a history he had hopefully left behind, was only 12 hours away. Of course he should have known better. Starfleet was not just an exploratory arm of the Federation, it had the responsibility for security as well. That meant it frequently butted heads with the Syndicate and the other lesser organizations.

 

He took another slug from the bottle, hoping that the alcohol would dull some of the apprehension he had. Maybe drinking enough of it would grant him a few hours of dreamless sleep. That is what had brought him here, to his holographic refuge. The dreams, the nightmares, the memories.

 

It was possible that everything had changed. Five years on the fringe devours quite a few lives. Most of the small hustlers would be gone, dead or incarcerated. Deep down though he knew that was a hope of a fool. The big players, the few who were ruthless and cunning enough to reach the top echelons of the local organizations would still be there. She would still be there.

 

The image of the stunningly beautiful green skinned woman with long, black flowing hair that came unbidden to his mind made Brian jump like he had been shocked. Yes, Velara would still be there and she definitely knew by now that Arcadia was on its way.

 

One more long drink and he set the nearly empty bottle on the bar. His legs nearly betrayed him as he stood and weaved toward the exit. Twelve more hours, he had to get some sleep, somehow.